Underlife by Robert Finn (best mobile ebook reader txt) 📖

to the driver. We just have to find one that’s well away from all the damage.”

“OK then,” he said, and waited for her to lead the way. Again, she pretended not to notice and held onto the handset as though she was taking one final look at it. He frowned and moved past her and out of the cab, but paused after a couple of steps to check that she was following. She fell in behind him wondering how much longer she could avoid turning her back on him before he noticed that something weird was going on. Then again, if she was frightened of him — which she was — maybe it would seem natural not to want him behind her.

As he turned his back on her and began walking through the train her hand slipped under her jacket and round to the back of her waistband as she wondered whether he was distracted enough to have dropped his guard.

No sooner had she thought it than he stopped suddenly and she nearly walked into the back of him. She snatched her hand away from the gun as he bent over and picked up his discarded boot, and then pulled it back onto his uncovered foot.

Rachel realised that for the last minute or so he hadn’t been limping. Had he somehow healed already? She felt a rush of anxiety which brought with it a mental picture of her pumping bullet after bullet into him, unable to slow him down. But, she reminded herself, one stray bullet was all it had taken to put Sebastian permanently out of the picture. You just had to pick your moment carefully.

Warren left his boot laces untied as he walked away from the rear cab and forward through the compartment. He stepped over Rachel’s bags and came to a halt next to a red metal handle set high up on one of the carriage’s side panels. Rachel ducked into one of the seats opposite so Warren would be free to lead the way whichever direction he set off in.

Warren cleared his throat and pulled the handle down. There were two little red strips on the panel and one of them lit up now, illuminating the words written on it. They said ‘Driver Aware’. A moment later, the other one lit up. It said ‘Speak To Driver’. And a tinny voice said, “This is the driver. Who is that please?”

Warren gave Rachel a firm look and raised his eyebrows which she could tell meant she was to keep silent. Then he said, “This is Sergeant Chris Hawkins of the Metropolitan Police Counter Terrorism Unit. I have a badly injured colleague here and I need to know if you’ll be able to move this train when I give the word.”

The driver sounded flustered, “Sergeant, uh, Sergeant Hawkins. Listen, the power’s off at the moment and the technical bods are looking into it. We can’t go anywhere right now I’m afraid. Can you, er, can you tell me what’s going on? You’re at the rear of the train, yes?”

Warren said, “I can tell you that my colleague and I attempted to arrest a known terrorist. He turned out to be armed and he fired at my partner, who is now very seriously injured. Then our target jumped from the rear of the train, which I assume is what brought us to a halt. I used the, er, short-circuit device while I retrieved the body. I’m nearly finished now. Then I will remove the device, at which point I need this train ready to proceed to the next station immediately.”

Rachel could almost hear the driver lick his lips nervously as he said, “A passenger has been killed? Listen, I can’t move the train. We’ll need to evacuate the remaining passengers and get a crew down onto the track. The investigators have to be informed. That’s the rules I’m afraid. My hands are tied.”

Warren raised his voice now and spoke with a cold and angry authority. “Now you listen to me. My partner is bleeding all over the floor of this train. He’s been shot in the neck and he’s dying. The only way to get him medical help in time to save his life is by moving this train. If you let him die you will have me to answer to.” Warren paused to let that sink in. “You will be directly responsible for the death of a police officer and that’s something which will follow you around for the rest of your days. Think carefully, because you are about to become the most hated man in London.” He paused again, for effect. “Now, in a couple of minutes, I will give the word and then you will get the power restored, after which you will do everything humanly possible to get this train to the next station before my partner dies. Do you understand me?”

“I’ll see if…” the driver began, tentatively.

Warren’s voice was ice as he demanded, “I said, do you understand me?”

“Yes,” was all the driver said. And then Warren slid the alarm handle back up cutting off the conversation.

“There,” he said to Rachel, turning off the anger in his voice and sounding positively pleased with himself. “That should do it. Now let’s hope your boyfriend finds that disk.”

*

But Clipper knew he wasn’t going to be finding any disk because he already knew where Kieran had hidden it. Nevertheless, he needed to go through the motions so that Warren would believe he’d run out of options.

Clipper’s big idea, the one he had Gary to thank for, was nearly ready to go — all but the last part was taken care of. The problem was that he’d need a full-sized miracle for it to stand any chance of working. And, frankly, Clipper was beginning to have serious doubts that he’d even be alive by the time the opportunity to turn the tables on Warren presented itself. Not only wouldn’t he have saved himself or Rachel, but in the meantime, by playing along, he’d have ended up actually helping Gary’s killer. That easily made today the worst day of his life and he was still only halfway through listing his problems — because before he could screw up Rachel’s rescue and get them both killed, he had to look for a burnt corpse in a railway tunnel and then go through its pockets.

At least he had a pair of latex gloves shoved into the back pocket of his trousers so he wouldn’t have to touch the dead flesh with his bare hands. Gary used to buy the gloves from a hairdressing suppliers and they came in handy every now and again for going through swiped bags or luggage that they were planning to ditch. Clipper had always been disappointed that they were looser than medical gloves and never made that satisfying snap like on TV. He pulled on one of them now as his nose told him he must be approaching Kieran’s remains.

The body was lying face down and was in one piece. He approached it slowly, trying to ready himself mentally for what he was about to do. The trick, he reckoned, was to narrow his attention down to just the width of a torch beam and not to think about anything else. He did his best to touch nothing, smell nothing and see as little as possible. At least, since he knew the disk wasn’t on Kieran’s body, he only needed to gather enough personal effects to persuade Warren he’d made a thorough search.

He got through it as fast as he could, and when he was done he had a wallet, a set of car keys, some coins, half a pack of indigestion tablets and a translucent red casino dice. He stuffed them into his own pockets as he found them.

There was only one moment when he thought he might puke, and he managed to get himself under control in time. But it persuaded him that he’d done enough corpse-robbing for one day. He had a plausible haul of personal effects — enough to stop Warren being suspicious — so he turned around and headed for the train. But he walked even more slowly than on the way there, as he tried to think through what came next. He needed to come up with some way out of this situation… and he just couldn’t summon any answers. He felt like beating his fists against his skull in frustration.

He might just about have been able to cope with things ending up like this, if it weren’t for the knowledge that Rachel was relying on him. He was used to screwing things up, and usually that was nobody’s problem but his own. But now, for the first time, he had someone relying on him — and he was going to get her killed. He might even have to watch it happen.

Why couldn’t she have picked someone else to rely on? There had to be all sorts of people who’d look at this situation and straightaway get some amazing idea that would sort everything out. But not him. He’d got one extremely long shot in mind that he’d never get a chance to even try. And about the only other thought that had even occurred to him was to sprint flat out to the next station and try to get back before Warren guessed what he was up to and took it out on Rachel. But he knew it was too far, he wasn’t fast enough and he wouldn’t be able to make anyone listen in time. Maybe someone else could do it, but not him.

So he traipsed slowly back, the light from the train growing brighter and brighter until it dazzled his tunnel-adjusted eyes, until he could make out Warren lurking in the shadows of the rear cab, looking out at him. He even caught a glimpse of Rachel, in the lit passenger compartment, gazing towards the tunnel, but without seeing him. He saw the anxiety on her face and it felt like she was accusing him, blaming him for letting her down. Sorry Rachel, he said to her, soundlessly. You just picked the wrong person to depend on.

As he came close to the base of the train’s escape ramp, Warren stepped out of his corner and called out to him, “Did you find it?”

He didn’t reply straight away. This being bad news, he didn’t want to shout it. He wanted to be close enough to say it quietly. When he’d closed the gap he said, “There wasn’t any disk.” He was standing to one side of the ramp now, while Warren stood on its top step and looked down at him. He didn’t look pleased.

“Did you check the track on the far side of the body? Did you make sure you didn’t walk past it?” Warren demanded.

“I was very careful,” Clipper lied. “There was no disk.” Clipper unloaded what he had found, reaching up to place each item on the floor of the rear cab.

Warren leant down and snatched up the pile, glanced quickly through the wallet before swearing. And then swearing again. He tossed Kieran’s effects into the light of the compartment behind him. Clipper waited patiently, knowing that they couldn’t be very far from the end of things now. Warren would rant and curse and then he would think about his next step… and then his attention would come back to Clipper and what to do about him. And, unless Clipper was very lucky, that would be that — for him at least. Then, soon after, the same thing would happen to the girl in the next compartment who’d made him smile and who had no one else but him to help her.

“Can I come up?” he said at